Wished
by Miss Mushroom
Summary: Polly is a Wished One;when she was a small baby her mother wished her away. Fairies came and took her away to Neverland heeding the lady's wish. Peter Pan took a fancy to her and she became the Lost Boys new mother and one and only Lost Girl. But when Polly learns more about her past and 3 unexpected visitors show up in Neverland, tossed with the usual mayhem, what will happen?
1. Prologue

**A/N (and disclaimer): Ok, I don't own the following:**

_**Peter Pan, **_**neither the person or the book or the movies**

**Neverland**

**The term Mister Grin for Hook's "favorite" croc—it belongs to the awesome series **_**Peter and the Starcatchers**_

**However, I do own Polly/Mary, Jane (complete accident, no intended relation to Wendy's daughter) and my other characters along with the concept of Wishing. And I also own Fidget, Polly's fairy. **

_Sometimes little babies fall out of their prams while their mothers aren't looking. Those little babies are borne away by fairies to Neverland where they are loved, but on the earth they are missed tremendously at first, but then they fade into mere memories. Those little babies are the Lost Ones. _

_Sometimes parents don't want their little babies, and wish them away. Fairies also bear these little unloved ones away to Neverland where they are loved, but very rarely do the parents notice their absence on the earth. Those little babies are the Wished Ones._

_And the difference between the Lost Ones and the Wished Ones? The Lost Ones can return to the earth anytime they wish, but very rarely do they want to, for they find that their parents have forgotten them. The Wished Ones however, can only leave if wished back but this is also quite rare, for the parents willingly forget their poor babies and move on in life. But sometimes the parents repent their wish; perhaps a small toy or baby blanket belonging to their lost babe sparks a faint memory of the child they wished away and forgot. If the parents of any baby of Neverland desire them back, the child is borne by fairies back to their parents where they become a baby once again. _

**OPENING LETTER FROM JANE:**

_My dear friends,_

_I would like to begin Mary's story with the part that was only recently made known to her: how and why she was wished away._

_Mother was born into a fairly well-to-do family. She was, and still is, quite pretty and could have married any number of high ranked and wealthy men. But, she was in love with the stable boy that lived nearby her family's country estate. Despite her family's fierce disapproval—for they had found a lord who was quite close to Mother's age who wanted very much to marry her—Mother wed the stable boy. The young couple was quite poor, but they managed to make their ends meet without any help from Mother's family. Mother, now Mrs. Henry Jacobs, soon discovered that she was pregnant. The couple was overjoyed with the prospect of having a child and eagerly looked forward to the little stranger's arrival. They baby was a healthy little girl named Mary by her mother, but called Polly by her father. _

_However, at about the same time Mary was born a horse in the care of her father became gravely ill and died. The owner of the beast insisted that Mr. Jacobs pay a huge sum for the loss of the animal, or the owner would expose the death and say that he believed that Jacobs poisoned the horse. Mary's father was unable to pay the exorbitant amount that the man demanded for the animal and told the man so. The man told the whole town that Jacobs had poisoned his horse and started a law case. The punishment in that area for theft (and killing another man's livestock counted as theft) was hanging. Mary's father lost the case, and on one rainy morning was hung as his wife wailed at the base of the hanging tree, clutching her newborn tightly in her arms. It was discovered later that the horse had been fed bad hay by another stable hand and had died of colic. The true culprit got off scot-free, leaving Mary's poor father to take the blame._

_Mary's mother was heartbroken. Everything in the country town she lived in reminded her of her late husband, especially their daughter Mary. Even her nickname Polly brought back the memory of Mr. Jacobs calling out for his 'little Lady Polly-wolly-doodle-all-the-day'. Mother eventually moved back in with her family. They took her back and acted as if she had never been gone. They even managed to set her up again with the young lord she was supposed to wed. Soon, Mother found herself engaged to be married to him, but there was one thing in the way: Mary. Lord Gregory Ashley, her fiancée, knew about her short marriage to Henry Jacobs but didn't know about their daughter. Mother found herself in quite a situation as she was certain that Lord Ashley would not want to be troubled with another man's child. One day Mother lost it. She began to scream at her little daughter, telling the baby that it was standing in Mother's chance to have a decent life. Then she screamed the words: "I wish you had never been born!" With those words Mary was borne away to Neverland by fairies. Ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent of the time, the parents wish their children back before they are half way to Neverland. In Mary's case however, her mother barely made an effort to search for Mary and quickly accepted her disappearance. Her family believed that their daughter had turned Mary over to an orphanage of some sort. The wedding went ahead as planned with nary a thought of Mary. Mother and Father—Lord and Lady Ashley—eventually had three children: Matthias, Jane (myself), and Simon. _

_Meanwhile, Mary had been carted off to Neverland. When the fairies reached there without being called back they were quite surprised. Never before had this happened, not with a Wished One. They took the baby to Peter and the Lost Boys. None had ever seen a baby girl before and they were rather curious. Mary had arrived shortly after Wendy had left Neverland and Peter missed her sorely. The Lost Boys also missed their 'mother' and asked Peter if the little girl was their new mother. Peter, taken by surprise, said that he guessed she was. Eventually, Mary—now called Polly by Peter and the Lost Boys—grew up a little bit, until she was about twelve. In that time she had become second in command to Peter. She even had a fairy much like Tinker Bell named Fidget. In addition to Fidget, Polly could also fly, just like Peter. Polly was happy on Neverland; not much can beat tormenting Captain Hook and his pirates, pranking the mermaids, playing mother to seven little Lost Boys, and of course never growing up. _

_When the peak of Polly's story takes place, she was about twelve, Peter was thirteen (he felt that he had to be older than the oldest Lost Boy or Polly by at least one year), my brother Matthias was thirteen also, Simon was seven, and I was a mere six years old. _

_Please read on, _

_Jane_


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here's to Chapter Two, even though it's technically Chapter One. I would like to thank my reviewers for the Prologue: **_**jolly roger brat, tatum1212, **_**and my friend **_**Paulina Cz**_**. It really makes me feel on top of the world whenever someone reviews. (Hint hint wink wink ;)**

**Chapter One **

"Hey Polly! Hey Polly! Hey-" Shouted Johnny as he somersaulted down one of the chutes into the hollow tree, screaming for me. At least he was until he ran into my hand, which _conveniently_ just happened to cover his mouth.

"Yes, Jonathan? What could I _possibly _do for you, dear child?" I asked with mock sweetness as I rumpled his already quite rumpled hair. Don't get me wrong, I love the kid but sweet and syrupy is not exactly my style. And Johnny knows that. All the Lost Boys and Peter know that.

"Peter… wants… to… see…you! Gasped out the five-year-old messenger as he tried to catch his breath and smooth out his ragged dirty blond hair at the same time.

"Right. Fidget!" My fairy, Fidget, flittered over. I turned toward the rope ladder leading out of the hollow tree, but didn't hear Fidget's wings beating behind me. I turned back towards her. "Well? Aren't you going to come with me?"

_Of course I am. Without me you'd never survive, not with that wretched boy and his disgrace of a fairy! _Pealed out the disgruntled fairy as she flitted over to me.

"Stop that! And keep a civil bell in your head!" I admonished. Needless to say, Fidget and Tinker Bell were not on the friendliest terms. Tinker Bell thought of me as an ugly cow and Fidget thought of Peter as 'that wretched boy', amongst other unmentionable things.

Fidget rang back with words that simply cannot be repeated on paper and flew out of the tree. I followed via the rope ladder and launched myself into the sky following Fidget and scanning the ground for Peter. I was about to call out for him but something icy cold and wet hit my back.

I shrieked and whirled around and nearly head-butted Peter Pan. An impish grin graced his dirt-smudged face and his green eyes sparkled with mischief. His right hand was behind his back, but the left hand still had particles of snow on it from the snowball that he had thrown at me. Tinker Bell was ringing with laughter. I couldn't completely understand what she was saying but I'm fairly certain that I heard 'frozen rib roast' mentioned.

"You are going to pay, Peter." I muttered as I wiped the snow off of my back.

"Nah, I was thinking we could go freeze a codfish. How much do you think that would fetch on the market with Mister Grin, dear lady?" If possible his grin was spreading more and I could feel myself grinning ear to ear as well in spite of myself.

"Well, good sir," I said, playing along with Peter's game, "I believe that we could fetch a fair price indeed from that notable consumer, but I believe that we could get a much better one if said codfish was bathed and scented with fruit."

"Oh that is a good idea, madam! Shall we proceed, then?" Peter's eyes twinkled as he bowed low, and being not totally uncivilized myself I returned with a curtsy, letting down my guard for a mere two or three seconds. However, two or three seconds was all Peter needed and he promptly chucked the snowball hidden behind his back at me and flew away as fast as he could, laughing.

"Peter Pan!" I shrieked as I darted after him, furious. Its not that I minded the snowball itself, but it was quite degrading to be caught twice within a span of five minutes. I managed to catch up to Peter and was only about two yards behind him, racking my brains for revenge.

_Polly! The pretty smelling water glass! From the beach!_ Rang out Fidget as she flew beside my ear. Peter had found a pretty little glass bottle with peculiar water in it on the Lost Beach—where the world's lost things tend to stray—some time ago and had brought it back thinking I might like the bottle for something or other. There was a label on it that proclaimed it _L'eau de L'amour_. When he had brought it back the Lost Boys, the fairies, and myself had gathered around him as we tried to figure out how it worked. There was a little pump that if you squeeze some of the water would spray out in a mist. I thought the water smelled quite pretty, although the boys all wrinkled their noses and pretended to faint from the stench. Fidg, Tink, and I liked the flowery smell of the water, but were unanimously pronounced crazy. Peter proposed that someone ought to taste the water; maybe it was supposed to be consumed not smelled. Eddie, or Scrounger as we tend to refer to him, was promptly volunteered by Charley, who had a score to settle with him for some petty matter or other. Scrounger did not back down, as that would deem him a coward, and stepped up to Peter, who sprayed some of the queer water in his mouth. Almost immediately Scrounger's eyes bugged out and began coughing and sounding (and looking) altogether like a fish out of water. After he recovered he remarked thus of the pretty smelling water: 'Jiminy! That slop ain't proper water! It smells n' tastes worse n' 'ook's drawers it does!' At the mention of that notorious codfish of a captain's undergarments all the boys took a step back from the offending water glass as I scoffed at Scrounger and the fairies scoffed as well as they could with only bells for voices. (Although no one bothered to question Scrounger just how he knew of the flavor and aroma of the captain's drawers. Personally, I suspected a dare from one of the other boys, but I certainly wasn't going to press the subject.)

Anyhow, the queer water and its glass holder was given to me and I had taken to carrying it in my pocket in order to protect it from the fairies, especially Tinker Bell, who liked to bathe in the water. I was somewhat sorry to waste my pretty water on Peter Pan, but it was a rather good form of revenge for not only would Peter smell like peaches and posies for several hours, he would have to take a bath to get rid of the smell. A bath with soap.

I handed the pretty glass to Fidget. "Here, you do the honors." With a wicked smile and the glass hugged to her chest she flitted as fast as any hummingbird over to Peter where she proceeded to spray nearly three quarters of the contents all over him, dodging Tink as she kept trying to be misted with the water.

"Aw, Polly that ain't fair! He shouted as he shielded his face from the scented spray, manned unmercifully by Fidget.

_Now you just fly yourself up to Polly and apologize right this instant, understood? _Rang out Fidget as she stopped spraying Peter, shaking her tiny finger in his face. At that Peter glided up to me, keeping an eye on Fidget who had followed close behind, the dreaded glass in her little fairy-hands, and grinned sheepishly at me.

_Well, boy? _Prodded Fidget, noticeably shifting the glass in her arms.

"Okay, okay! I'm-sorry-for-snowballing-you-and-would-you-please-call-off-this-winged-watchdog!" Rushed out Peter, still eyeing my 'winged watchdog'. Fidget chimed her approval and handed me back the pretty glass, which I returned to its safety in my pocket. As the bottle disappeared from his sight Peter relaxed significantly. He spat on his hand and offered it to me, his olive branch.

While most girls I suppose would have been repulsed, I also spat on my hand and vigorously shook his, accepting his peace offering. With all the amenities out of the way, I began to remember Peter saying something about a frozen codfish.

"Say, Peter," I began as we flew along side-by-side. "What was that about a frozen codfish you were saying earlier?"

Peter's green eyes fairly lit up with mischief. "Well, there's a whole lot of snow still up at The Mountain and there's all sorts of over-ripe fruits in the trees by Lost Beach." I could feel the mischievous sparkle spreading to my own eyes.

"Oh, Peter you _are _wicked!" I beamed in admiration. "But don't you think that we ought to include the boys in this marvelous scheme of yours?"

Peter thought for a moment before saying "Yeah, I 'spose so. Let's go get 'em."

Quickly we flew back to the Hollow Tree and found the Lost Boys in a heap, shouting at each other.

"Ten hut!" Shouted Jack as he caught sight of Peter and I. I tried to hide my smile behind my hand as all the boys leapt up at the same time, ending up in an even larger heap. I openly smiled as Peter and I began detangling the heap of boys on the dirt floor. Once all of our crew was properly standing, Peter laid out the battle plans. Then all of the boys, from twelve-year-old Jack to two-year-old Wolfie, were plentifully dusted with pixie dust and we proceeded to fly out of the Hollow Tree after grabbing all of the buckets we had without leaks.

We flew to Lost Beach and filled a little more than half of the buckets with water and overripe fruits. Next (and last) on our wicked little shopping list were half a dozen buckets filled with icy snowballs from The Mountain. However with eight boys and a tomboy (me) combined with a whole mountain of perfect snow, let's just say that it took about an hour to fill those buckets. Why so long you ask? Well, I'll leave it at the fact that it's kinda hard to make enough snowballs to toss at the people tossing them at you and have enough extra ammo to donate to the Codfish On Ice Charity. (For all of you who are assuming that we had a snowball fight, give yourselves a pat on the back from Polly Jacobs.)

When the buckets were finally full with the snowballs, we ended up having to put extra snow in the water buckets in order to keep the water suitably cold for the esteemed captain of the Jolly Roger.

En route to Hook's ship we had to stop before we got too close to giggle and laugh.

"Alright you guys," I said somewhat sternly. "No noise until we spring Phase 1 on them. Anyone want to say what Phase 1 is?" Robin raised his hand. "Yeah, Rob?"

"First we sneak up on them," Robin began, his voice bordering on dramatic. "Then, we quickly and quietly scout the deck for his Royal Pain In Peter's Posterior-ness and associates. If said pain and associates are above decks…" Yeah, meet the drama king. After he thoroughly dramatized Phases 1, 2, _and _3, we were beyond ready to move and couldn't have giggled or laughed if you paid us.

"Okay, everyone. We move now!" Shouted Peter as he sprang up and began to fly in the direction of the Jolly Roger with the rest of the Lost Boys in close pursuit.

"C'mon, Shakespeare." I said, waving to Robin. He flew after me, sulking that he was cut short. Long drama short, Phase 1: Scout deck and lure Hook out somehow if he isn't out already. Phase 2: Douse Hook and crew, but specifically Hook, with cold salt water. Phase 3: Drop overripe fruits on entire crew. Phase 4: Bombard Hook and some of the crew with snowballs as we get our behinds out of there as fast as we possible can. Personally, I thought it couldn't fail and would result in a sticky, cold, and wet ship of stinky, repulsive, and murderous cutthroats.

We hovered behind some thick clouds to execute Phase 1. Charley took out his spyglass to scout the opposition. Charley is our scout and never before was there such a sneaky, observant, and mischievous Lost Boy. Maybe if he hadn't fallen out of his pram he would have been London's most notorious pickpocket. He stole that spyglass of his from the Mermaids—who had stolen it from the Jolly Roger—and that takes skill, considering the fact that Mermaids are _extremely_ possessive.

"All clear, Peter. Smee's givin' the Cap'n a shave." Said Charley, quietly as usual.

"Right then," said Peter. "Rob, take Tim and Squirrel and the water buckets. Go hide up in the sails."

The boys in question—Robin, Timothy, and Johnny—nodded and took up the position. When they were hidden almost directly above Hook, Peter sent Jack, Scrounger, and Charlie with the fruit. Then we took the snowball buckets and Wolfie and flew up to the rigging and made eye contact with Jack. He nodded and Peter counted to three with his fingers in Jack's line of sight. On three Jack whistled his trademark low one-long-one-short sequence. Then everything under the sun broke loose.

Jack's whistle was Robin's signal. As soon as he heard it, he, Tim, and Johnny, took the buckets of water and leaped out in clear view.

"Hey, Smee! Ye missed a spot!" Cackled Tim as he dumped nearly half of his bucket on the first mate and captain. Then Robin yelled out our code for Phase 3: Sarsaparilla, which had been the longest word we could think of. I almost fell out of the rigging laughing at Hook's baffled expression. However, it wasn't long before a particularly ripe and juicy fruit was dropped upon his repulsive face. When we saw the boys with water and fruit running low, I whistled a long high note and all the boys flew back in order to arm themselves with the snowballs. Then, we charged.

It was the ultimate snowball fight. At the end, all of the pirates had some sort of mushy fruit smeared all over them, salt water splattered all over the deck (along with the stray papaya or two), and slushy snow just about everywhere.

We raced up to the clouds and Peter crowed while the Lost Boys and I laughed as we flew back to the hollow tree, but not before Peter swiped Hook's captain's hat as a trophy. We left Hook shaking his fist at us and the other pirates slipping and sliding around the deck.

As we flew back home, I glanced from one grinning face to the other. Peter looked back at me and grinned, his green eyes twinkling and the setting sun reflecting on his hay colored hair. Jack had Wolfie on his shoulders, Jack's dark hair contrasting with Wolfie's rust colored hair. Then there was Robin and Charley, both with brown hair, although Charley's hair was like a deer's hide and Robin's was near the color of tree bark. Timothy was reclining in the air, his hands clasped in his ragged strawberry blond hair, his blue eyes sparkling with happiness. Scrounger and Squirrel—Eddie and Johnny—flew next to each other, fighting playfully. Scrounger looked almost like a shadow with his dark curly hair and fog colored eyes, shouting gleefully as he ducked Squirrel's offensive. Squirrel had dirty sand colored hair, laughing eyes the color of the Mermaid's Lagoon, and a silly grin on his round baby face as he finally landed a solid hit on Scrounger's shoulder. I smiled, and held out my finger for Fidget to land on. She did, and as we flew across Neverland in the sunset, I almost wished that I could freeze this minute in time, store it in a box, and keep it as a treasure forever. Almost. I never actually wish for anything; wishes are too unpredictable, and this minute with Peter was a result of my own mother's wish. Her wish that I had never been born.

**A/N: Super sorry, everyone! It's **_**unbelievably **_**impossible to get ahold of a good computer in my house. My dad has a lock on his (which is the good one) and I have to get him to unlock it every time I need it. And then I have to wrestle it away from my younger brother—HARD. And as if that's not enough, about a week ago I cut my index finger on my left hand and as soon as it healed, I did it again last night. My mom got my dad a new knife set for his birthday and I cut the same finger like a millimeter away from the original cut. And guess what I cut it on everyone? A steak knife. A freaking **_**steak **_**knife! However, it sliced pretty well and now I have it mummified in gauze, but it's incredibly hard to type without it. So, yeah, that's my pity party. And incredibly lame excuse bundle. **

**BTW, if you want me to feel better ('cause my finger actually REALLY hurts, no joke) PLEASE REVIEW! :D ;D **


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